


Intimacy

by brerediddy



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Ryan is nervous, Ryden, brendon is cute and nice, fear of intimacy, fever era, just read it, kinda pre-established kinda not, slight mention of non-con but it's like a very vague nightmare, some use of bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-29
Packaged: 2018-10-12 15:33:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10493961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brerediddy/pseuds/brerediddy
Summary: Ryan has a bad dream and struggles to get over it, letting it impact him to the point that he develops a fear of intimacy. Brendon just wants to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is in no way polished. I've had a bit of a struggle with writing recently and it just felt good to finish something for once. I wrote this in about a day and a half so I could get some feelings out. I know it's not up to my usual quality, but we'll get there. It feels good to be back. xx

“Fucked up, fucked up, fucked up,” Ryan murmured to himself as he rolled over in bed. The hotel room was soft but imposing, calm but lonely. It shouldn’t have felt as such, due to the fact that he was sharing it with his best friend and semi-boyfriend. It shouldn’t have felt the way it did. But he was only 19, after all, and he was allowed to dwell on some things.

Things. Well, things like bad dreams and memories and everything in between. He curled in on himself, placing a bony arm to cover his bare stomach. He wasn’t hungry, hadn’t been ever since his recurring nightmare. Or something like that. His long legs were tucked near his ribs and his other arm rested at an angle to shield his face from the door. Brendon would be back any moment. This small protection would give Ryan time to compose himself and pretend to be asleep without being noticed.

He knew that he had to be a mess. He hadn’t left bed since his post-show shower. They’d no sooner come off stage than Ryan was jumping into the bathroom to clean himself up. Then, he had tucked himself away. He was silent for long enough for Brendon to assume that he was sleeping. The singer had departed for the complimentary party after giving Ryan a quick peck on the head. Ryan didn’t know why Brendon had been so gentle, so chaste. It wasn’t like they were dating. Sure, they hung out and made out and cuddled sometimes, but it wasn’t like they were strictly together. Neither of them liked labels. Why put a label on something that doesn’t need it? That’s what Brendon always said, anyway. They did boyfriend-ish stuff without the “boyfriend” attachment. Genius, right?

Regardless, he knew that boyfriend or not, Brendon would be alarmed to find him in this state. Messy hair, red-rimmed eyes, chewed-up lips. Tossing and turning. Sunken-in stomach. Although the younger boy seemed to have already picked up on his hunger when he eyed Ryan’s growling stomach at lunch and offered him an extra bagel.

The guitarist could only hope than Brendon wouldn’t pry. He knew that they haven’t really done anything physical lately, not even a kiss, but he hoped that the other boy would understand. He didn’t want to have to explain himself. The bad dreams, the memories, the irrational fears. Brendon would understand, of course, but Ryan didn’t want him to have to. He wanted this all to blow over in its own time, and it would.

Surely enough, Brendon cracked open the door and let some light stream in. Ryan could see a glimmer of it reflecting off of his shield of an arm. It was obvious that the other boy was trying to be quiet. It was very considerate of him, given that he was probably still buzzed from the party. Ryan did his best not to move or look too awake as he heard the singer unclothing and brushing his teeth in their bathroom. Brendon then turned out the lights and climbed into bed next to Ryan. He figured that this would be the end of it, Brendon would pass out, all would be well. To his dismay, though, Brendon scooted closer and lifted an arm to wrap around his midsection. The younger laced his fingers with Ryan’s and let out a small and contented sigh. The guitarist wasn’t sure if he moved or tensed or anything but the next thing he knew, Brendon was whispering in his ear.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Mmmh?” Ryan mumbled, acting as if he were just waking up.

“You’re just really...I don’t know, like, stiff. You don’t usually sleep like that,” Brendon observed. His hair was tousled and Ryan could feel it against the back of his neck, but he didn’t let that phase him.

“Yeah. I’m fine, go to sleep.”

“You sure? You’ve been acting weird.”

“I’m positive,” said Ryan, positively.

Brendon didn’t seem totally convinced, but he decided to let it go as he settled in. After a moment of silence, he figured that the night wasn’t quite the night without a goodnight kiss, so he pulled himself up to give the other boy a small peck. As his lips met Ryan’s skin, the guitarist flinched. Slightly, but enough to notice.

“Hey, talk to me,” Brendon spoke.

“What?” Ryan intoned. “Everything’s fine. It tickled.”

“Okay, well then, kiss me.”

“I don’t know if that’s smart. I’d have to move and then you’d have to move and then the whole thing would be a mess, really.”

“Smartass,” Brendon smiled. He used the arm that was draped over Ryan to pull the other boy over onto his side so that they were facing each other. Only then could he see the circles under Ryan’s eyes, the tiredness in his features. “Hey, woah. Ryan,” he said breathlessly.

The older boy rolled his eyes. “I’m just tired. Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“It looks like you’re missing a week’s worth of sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Ryan insisted.

Brendon chided, “Ryan.”

“I had a bad dream. That’s all, okay?”

Brendon mulled this over. Once he seemed satisfied with the answer, he pulled Ryan closer to him. He wrapped his arms around the slight figure and softly said, “You could tell me about it, you know.”

“It’s really not important. It was stupid, really. I even looked up some of the themes and figured out that my psyche is all good.”

“Oh, good, your dreams did the talking for you, did they?” The singer didn’t quite believe that Ryan was completely fine but the lightheartedness of the conversation certainly seemed to be doing the other boy some favors in the happiness department.

“Yeah. It’s all good. How was the party?” Ryan inquired. He hoped that Brendon had a good time. The younger boy missed out on a lot of high school memories for the band so he wanted the band to give some experiences back to him.

“It was fine. It would have been more fun with you there, but I can’t complain.” Brendon gave a soft smile and shifted so that his nose was touching Ryan’s.

“Well, I hope you can forgive me,” the older boy remarked.

“I might be able to,” smirked the other. He pressed his lips against Ryan’s gingerly. One of his hands came to rest on the taller boy’s chest, palm against his heart. His too-quickly-beating heart.

“Hey, uh, I think I-I’m tired,” Ryan stammered, breaking the kiss.

Brendon furrowed his brow but backed off. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, of course.” He wondered if he had done something to piss Ryan off. He didn’t usually get so weird when they kissed. He was always fine with it up until now. Maybe he was just having an off night. Brendon had those sometimes. Although, usually, a kiss was fair game.

“Well. Goodnight,” Ryan muttered. He rushed to turn over so he would no longer have to face the confusion on the other boy’s face.

“Goodnight,” Brendon stated. He turned over as well.

-

As Brendon woke up to light streaming through the windows, he hoped that Ryan was feeling better. He hoped that he would be able to kiss him and hold him as usual. When the older boy stirred, he felt like holding his breath. What if a good night’s sleep hadn’t solved the problem?

Ryan rolled over and yawned and okay, that was adorable. He blinked a few times before opening his eyes all the way.

“Morning, sunshine,” Brendon greeted. Ryan always seemed to wake up with grandeur akin to a Disney Princess, but he wasn’t complaining. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah, actually. I did. You?” Ryan mumbled. His voice was still thick with sleep.

“Yeah. It was good.” Brendon shivered a bit. “It’s colder than it was last night.”

“You were also buzzed last night,” he responded with a smile. He reached out to pull the smaller boy close to him. Ryan wrapped an arm around his midsection. “Better?”

Brendon let out a small yawn. “Much. You’re like my own personal furnace.” Ryan seemed to be in a better mood today. Cuddly. Happy. It was amazing how much some rest could improve things. He kissed a few spots on Ryan’s neck hesitantly. When he got no reaction, he took it as another sign that everything was back to normal.

They stayed in that position for a bit. They would have fallen back asleep if not for the chirping birds outside of their window. When it was obvious that no sleep would be had anyway, Brendon shifted up so that he could kiss Ryan. When he did, though, Ryan didn’t move to hold him or press into him or even really kiss him back. What was up with that?

“So anyway, I’m going to go get ready for the day. Yep. Cool,” Ryan rushed to say as soon as Brendon pulled away. He moved to get out of bed but the other hurried to grab onto his arm, keeping him in the vicinity.

“Okay, okay, really. Something is up with you. And don’t tell me you’re tired.”

Ryan chewed on his lower lip absentmindedly. “I told you last night. I had a dream and it kind of messed with me.”

“So tell me about it,” Brendon insisted. “You’d feel better. You always bottle things up and then let them get to you. Let me help you.”

He didn’t look overjoyed but the guitarist shifted his eyes to look at the other boy, a sure sign of the trust that had built between them. “Okay, well. Um. You and I were, like, making out, I guess. And I asked you to stop. And you didn’t. So we just kept going. And things, uh, got a little bit out of hand. And I asked you to stop again. But you didn’t. So.”

Brendon took a moment to collect his thoughts. Did Ryan seriously think that was plausible? Did he think that low of him? “Ryan, I…”

“I guess it just freaked me out. And it’s not your fault, it’s _my_ fucked up brain. And I know that it shouldn’t affect me but it is.”

The singer let out a long breath. “Ryan, but. I wouldn’t.”

“I know,” the aforementioned boy reassured. “I know. That’s not the problem, though. It’s just the feeling.”

“But you know it’s just a dream, right?” Brendon reiterated. While he knew that the struggle was purely internal, he couldn’t help but blame himself. Had he been coming on too strong? Being too forceful? Did it make Ryan nervous enough to seep into his subconscious? He made a silent vow to back off until the other boy was ready, no matter how long it took.

-

It had been a week. A whole week. Brendon knew that he intended to wait until Ryan was completely ready, but God, a week? For a dream? The guitarist had acknowledged multiple times that he was over the dream but for some reason, they hadn’t so much as kissed for six days!

One night, they were laying in some other bed in some other hotel in Omaha. Brendon approached the conversation carefully. He waited until Ryan had showered and gotten comfortable in bed for the night before he brought it up.

“Hey, so, remember how you said you were over the dream?”

“Mhm?” Ryan murmured in response. He glanced beside him to look at Brendon. Beautiful Brendon. He hated to confuse him like this, but it wasn’t like he had a choice. He was confused too. He had some ideas for blog posts that might help him get his feelings out, though, and he made a mental note to publish them later.

“So, if you’re over it, why don’t we...you know, make out or anything?” The singer worried that maybe the spark of their fling-not fling had died out. Or maybe Ryan was just tired of him.

“I don’t know, Brendon. It’s just weird, okay?”

“Weird? Like, between us?”

“No. No, I still want us to have...this thing. Whatever it is that we have. But it’s just…whenever we kiss or anything, it always leads to something else. And maybe I don’t want the something else. Maybe I _just_ want to kiss or hug you sometimes and that’s all.”

Brendon felt so utterly stupid. And so relieved. So that was it! That was the whole problem! He had worried over nothing. “Oh, hey, no, that’s fine. We don’t have to do anything else if you don’t want to.”

“Really?”

“Really. Is that all that’s bothering you?”

Ryan responded, “Yeah...uh, no.”

Brendon brought his brows closer together, focusing on the sound of Ryan’s voice.

“It’s,” the guitarist said. “It’s like. I haven’t really had the best experience with this stuff. I always find some way to fuck it up or do the wrong thing, or...I don’t know. But I want you and I want to keep what we have.”

“Ryan,” he responded, reaching a hand up to rest on the boy’s collarbone. “You won’t fuck anything up. I like you. I like this.”

“And what is _this_?” Ryan suddenly said, more gusto in his tone than previously. He pulled away from Brendon’s touch and sat up against the headpiece of the bed, rubbing at his eyes a bit frantically. Brendon propped himself up on one arm to look up at him.

“What do you mean?” The singer was kind of lost in the conversation.

“This. Us,” the older responded, making a small gesture between the two of them with his thin fingers.

“Well, we’re, um. I don’t know.”

“Exactly,” Ryan explained. “No one knows what we are. We’re pretty much dating but...what is it? What’s the problem? The commitment? The labels?”

Brendon stammered, “Well, I mean, I-”

“And it doesn’t exactly make me want to make out with you. Not when after the kissing, after the cuddling, it’s just...us. Not anything special.”

“Ryan, we-”

“And the dream fucked me up, okay? It made me realize some things and maybe I’m leaning on it too much and maybe I’m using it as a crutch for the real issue, but I’m struggling, here, Brendon, and I can’t.”

Brendon didn’t want to hear any more. He only wanted to wrap Ryan up in a very secure hug and make him relax and get him some tea with lemon, just the way he likes it. He had very obviously been upset for a while, holding it in, and the singer felt like shit for only noticing once Ryan had stopped kissing him. He felt that this could all be cleared up in a few moments if Ryan could just breathe.

“What’s the real issue? The relationship thing?” Brendon asked in clarification.

“No. I get freaked out whenever you get too close and I have to come up with excuses!” Ryan explained, frustration evident in his tone.

“You don’t...Ryan, you don’t need excuses. You could just _tell_ me.” Brendon so badly wanted to hold the other boy but he knew that it wasn’t a good idea. He obviously needed his space.

“I do need excuses,” he insisted. “It’s easier to give excuses than to tell you that I’m fucking _afraid_ of intimacy.”

Oh. Brendon didn’t really expect that. Was that something he could help with? He didn’t know. “Ryan, hey, it’s okay,” he assured. When he examined Ryan’s face, he could tell that the boy was biting his lip, holding back his emotions. “I don’t mind. I don’t need us to be physical if you aren’t comfortable with it.”

“But _why_ am I not comfortable with it? I’ve always been fine before, you know? And I’m fucking nineteen years old. I should want this.”

“But if you don’t, it’s okay. I’m sure you just need some time. We can take baby steps.”

“You don’t mind?”

“No. No, of course not,” Brendon intoned. He reached hesitantly for Ryan’s hand and smiled softly when their fingers twined together.

“I thought maybe...I thought maybe you only liked kissing me and cuddling and everything.”

Brendon’s brows furrowed. “Really? You think I don’t just like _you_ for _you_?”

“Well, why would you?” Ryan responded with a shrug.

“Because you’re _Ryan Ross_. You’re my best friend. I still want to be with you even if we never kiss again. I mean, I hope that someday we’ll kiss again because frankly, you’re amazing at it, but...well, you get it.”

“You...like me?”

“Of course I like you,” he nodded. He knew what the guitarist was prying for, so he thought he would speed up the process. “Ryan, will you do me the huge honor of being my boyfriend? Labels and all?”

“Of course,” Ryan grinned. He settled down a bit closer to Brendon, now on level ground.

They didn’t kiss, didn’t cuddle. Just enjoyed each other’s company. Held hands, because Ryan was comfortable with that right now. Talked. Laughed. Smiled.

And it was better than either boy planned for it to be.


End file.
